Abyss to Zenith
by Fingersnaps
Summary: 'True friendship is a plant of slow growth, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation." George Washington (1763). An alphabetical series of stories exploring the friendship between Timothy McGee and Anthony DiNozzo from A to Z.
1. Abyss

3

**Abyss**

I can remember the exact moment I knew my life was spiralling out of control. I was sitting in my apartment watching _Rear Window_, one of Hitchcock's greatest movies, and I fell asleep. I wasn't tired; fact was nothing outside of work could hold my interest, not since she left. When I followed her to Israel I was sure she'd come back with me; she'd given up so much to be a part of our team, to become a US citizen, I couldn't understand how she could walk away. All the way home I tried to figure out where I'd gone wrong, why she had to go; couldn't make sense of it then, still can't.

When I finally made myself believe she wasn't coming back, I did everything I could to come to terms with her not being here, guess I thought I could deal with it by working, whatever else goes wrong in my life I've always had my work. We were busy, being one light on the team meant there was plenty to do, and while I was working I was good, least I thought I was...Only when I got home everything felt wrong, I had no energy, no interest in anything outside the job. Hadn't even replaced my car, what was the point, where was I going except the Navy Yard and home? I put on a DVD every night, most times I knew the movie so well I barely had to watch, just used it as background noise, should have realised right then how serious things were; movies had always been my refuge, good times or bad I could find comfort in a movie. If I was feeling good I always felt better, and if I was feeling bad I could lose myself in the story, the characters, the skill of the director, the music; there was always something to help me forget. Not now, since she'd gone nothing felt the same, nothing felt right; my whole life was darker, I was falling and didn't know how to stop.

They knew something was wrong, Gibbs wouldn't say anything, it's not his style, but he knew. Tim, he tried to get me to talk, open up about her, how could we be open about our feelings when we couldn't even say her name?

Tim called me every night, asked me to go out, or to meet up for a movie night; I didn't always answer so he stopped calling, didn't stop asking though. He sent text messages; guess it wasn't so painful if I didn't answer a text, not as personal as ignoring a call. I couldn't talk to him, he was too close, and even though he didn't say it, I know he missed her too, felt betrayed that she hadn't talked to him; he kept it to himself but I could see the hurt and yet I still didn't talk with him, couldn't, not without him seeing how bad things were with me.

The night I fell asleep watching _Rear Window_ was the night I started searching the internet, I put in some of the things I was feeling; I couldn't believe what I found...depression...I always thought that was something only weaklings had, not armed federal agents who'd faced death more than once. Shows how wrong I was, I was sick, am sick, and reading how other men had faced the same problems I was trying to ignore, and how they found strength by sharing their problems with others, it got me thinking. I was feeling so bad I knew I had to open up to someone, but I couldn't face admitting my weakness to any one of my friends, they'd never see me the same way if I told them the truth. I found a support group here in DC and after a shaky start, still didn't find it easy to talk about the mess my life had become even to a bunch of strangers, I started to relax.

Over time I started to really listen to the other group members, and to trust them enough to open up about who I was and how I'd become the man I am today. Joining the group, understanding there are other men out there hiding who they really are, how they feel when they're trying to live a life like 'normal' people; it made me feel I can keep myself from falling back into the deep despair I was feeling after Ziva...see, I can think of her, of her name without falling apart, I say her name every day now, when I feed the goldfish, I always say hi to both of them, Kate seems happier, if a goldfish can be happy, now she has a friend...friends...

I picked up my cell, opened up the latest text message. 'Kurosawa festival opens tonight, how about a movie and a drink?' I shook my head, why was he still asking, after so many weeks why didn't he give up on me? I knew the answer, it's the same reason I wouldn't give up on him if he was in trouble; it's what friends do.

Thing was, I just wasn't in the mood for a movie, I needed to rediscover my love for the silver screen, I wasn't ready, not yet, but there was something...

I hit speed dial and heard the surprise in his voice when he answered. "Tony, it's late I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

Late? I checked my watch, 11.30, way too late to catch a movie. "I hadn't noticed the time, sorry Tim, I'll call tomorrow."

"No! It's fine, I'm still on my computer, no reason for an early night when we have a weekend off."

"Aren't you seeing the lovely Delilah?"

"She's visiting with her family...Tony, how are you doing?"

I smiled, ever since he'd found out about the support group Tim had been treating me like I was going to break any minute. "Better; Tim, if you have nothing planned tomorrow...there are a few car dealerships I've been meaning to visit; I was thinking looking for a new car would be more fun if I had some company."

"You're asking me to look at cars with you? Are you sure you're okay Tony, this is McGee remember?"

"I feel better than I have in a long time, and don't try pretending you know nothing about cars McPorsche."

I could hear him laughing. "Yeah, well I don't have the Porsche any longer; I'm not so cool these days."

"You're cool enough for me Tim, what do you say, ready to help me find my dream machine?"

There was a long silence and I wondered if I'd left it too long to answer one of his messages, had he decided I wasn't worth the effort, that I'd shut him out when I needed help?

"Tim, you still there?"

"Any time you need me Tony, any time."


	2. Boyhood

6

**Boyhood**

"Stop nagging, maybe you should take my keys; that way I won't wreck my new car."

"We came in a cab Tony, remember?"

"Cab...I do rememember, wait, did I add an extra em in remem...whatever."

"I think it's time we were going home, I know you've had a tough day but it's getting late and you, we have had enough to drink."

"No such thing as 'nough, there's too much, too little, but never enough. Hey, I can't be drunk if I can be so philosophical. I can even say philoph...phlos..."

"Don't force it Tony, one philosophical is plenty. If you don't want to leave, how about a soft drink, or water?"

"Water! Only if there's a Scotch in the glass too."

"Tony..."

"He's done it again hasn't he? I don't know why I'm even surprised any more when he lets me down, why do I make reservations, buy concert tickets? It's a stupid waste of time, every freaking time he bales and I'm left alone."

"Hey! Thanks for that Tony, what am I, chopped liver?"

"No way, no way Tim, my pal, my buddy...you saved me tonight, saved me from myself."

"Now you're being maudlin."

"I like the way that words sounds...it sounds...soulful, maudlin...you've been spending way too much time with Ducky lately."

"Whatever you say Tony, er Tony, please take your hand off my knee, people will talk. How about I call you a cab, and don't you dare!"

"Dare what McSpoilsport?"

"You know."

"Guess it is a pretty old joke, saying someone's a cab...but it's a good one, the old ones often are. Tim, am I getting old?"

"We're all getting older, but I don't think you'll ever be old."

"I don't...don't want to be like my dad, always acting like some fading frat-boy, trying to hold on to...whatever he thinks he's holding on to."

"Don't knock what your dad has Tony, he can be very charming; look at the way Abby acts whenever he's around; Ziva wasn't immune either, she had a soft spot for both DiNozzo's."

"Maybe...didn't stop her walking away."

"True, but she didn't go because of anything you did, or didn't do."

"I know, I know...she had to make her own life, just wish I could be a part of it...wish I could be part of my dad's life too."

"You are a part of his life Tony! I know he lets you down sometimes...too often maybe, but at least he can tell you he loves you. My dad, sick as he is he still won't say..."

"Hold it right there, whatever else we may think about them, we know our dad's love us, they may not be good at saying it, or showing it, but deep down they feel...Face it Tim, our dad's stopped being heroes long ago, but they were heroes once. Do you remember, hey I got it right! Do you remember the days when you thought your dad was the greatest man in the whole world?"

"Oh yeah; even when he was being critical of whatever I was trying to do, I know he was only trying to make me better, stronger maybe..."

"Did it work?"

"Sometimes, guess he taught me never to be satisfied with second best, always strive to improve every day; how about you? Your dad must have been quite something when he was younger."

"Pretty much the same way he is now, only with fewer wrinkles and grey hairs. He was...is, always looking for the next big deal, the next bedroom conquest, the next free lunch."

"Come on Tony, you told me he took you fishing, there must have been some good times."

"A few...okay maybe more than a few. He would come to school sometimes, no warning, he'd just show up out of the blue and he'd take me out for pizza, or bowling; we'd talk, laugh. I remember there was a lot of laughter, but then...there were times when he'd promised to come watch me play ball, or listen to my piano recital..."

"He didn't show?"

"Once in a while, when he wasn't cooking up some amazing deal; when mom got sick he did try to spend more time with me, problem is he's not good with confrontation. I was angry about mom's illness, took it out on him, drove him away I guess."

"But he came back; I know he didn't always act like a responsible adult."

"Ya think?"

"Okay, he doesn't like being the grown-up, but having a dad who never lightens up can be tough too. My dad he...he's always been distant, and not just because he was posted overseas; even when he was home it was like his mind was always with the Navy, not with us...out there, you know?"

"I know, believe me I know, my dad was like that, always waiting for a phone call, or on his way to a meeting."

"You know Tony, when I first knew you I figured you must have had the home life every kid dreams of...pots of money, exotic vacations, now..."

"Not looking so rosy, huh?"

"Not so much. Guess neither if us is poster boy for the perfect childhood...we're still luckier that lots of other kids; my dad never raised his hand to me, I never went to bed hungry, I felt...safe, loved. Guess my mom and Penny had a lot to do with that; it must have been hard for you, after your mom..."

"It wasn't always easy when she was alive, the arguments between her and dad, her drinking...she could be difficult, but other times...loving her was so easy Tim, and even when she got real sick we'd sit together and talk, or watch movies...I miss here every single day, and every day I wonder if I'd have been a different person if she was still alive."

"Guess neither of us would have turned out the way we did if our home lives had been different. I can't imagine the size of the hole left by losing your mom; without my mom I don't think I'd have got through high school, let alone had the nerve to move away from home and go to college. I can tell you one thing Tony, for what it's worth; if your mom was still alive she'd be proud of the man you've become."

"Seriously? You don't think I be a dissp, dissoint...a let-down to her?"

"The Senior Field Agent on the top Major Case Team in NCIS? A loyal friend, a good son, an ace investigator, a man of impeccable taste in clothes, a walking movie encyclopaedia...what's not to be proud of?"

"You mean all that Tim, really, truly?"

"One hundred percent; your mom would think she was lucky to have a son like you."

"I...I was lucky to have her, wasn't for as long as I'd have like, but I sure was lucky. Another thing...I'm lucky to have you Tim, not many people would put up with me, I go too far sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Hey! I'm trying to pay you a compliment. You're one of the good guys, and I'm glad to have you as a friend."

"Do you think you'd be saying that if you were sober?"

"You sayin' I've had too much to drink?"

"Come on Tony, I've been saying that since your third Martini."

"Shaken, not stirred...okay, maybe I've had one too many."

"One?"

"Or two, but...I know what I'm saying, you're a good friend, if you weren't you'd be happy to pour more drink down my throat instead of trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. Let's have one more drink Tim, a small one, just so I can toast my dad on his birthday."

"Sure thing, so long as this is the last one."

"Barkeep; two small Martinis, very well shaken. So Tim, a toast, Happy Birthday Dad...how about a word for your dad too, they may have messed us around when we were kids, but I guess all things considered we didn't turn out so bad."

"Guess not, go ahead Tony, toast away."

"To Anthony DiNozzo Senior and Admiral John McGee, we forgive you for the bad times and thank you for the good. Agreed?"

"Agreed. To our dads, warts and all, we love you!"

THE END


	3. Chameleon:Prologue

5

**Chameleon**

_Author's Note: My thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far, if you left a signed review I've already thanked you personally, to those of you who have reviewed as guests, followed or listed this as a favourite, thank you!_

_This will be a multi-chapter story within the Abyss to Zenith strand, and is also an entry for the Original Character Challenge on the NFA._

**Prologue**

The night was cold and clear, the stars forming a shimmering canopy above his head, but the man saw no beauty, he had stepped into the courtyard to escape her tears. For days now his dear wife had been crying and he had been powerless to help her; how could he when his own heart was breaking? Their only son, the light of their lives was dead, and they were living in a world of pain and sorrow. They had loved him, perhaps too much, when he had asked them for permission to travel to Europe they had hesitated, his upbringing had not prepared him for the hedonistic lifestyle he would encounter there, but he had begged them, and from his earliest childhood they had been able to deny him nothing.

Now he was gone, their dearest child dead before his time, so much promise, so much beauty and love snuffed out in an instant. Sheikh Mohammed Bin Rashid Al Nahyan bit back a sob; he would cry no more, his tears would not bring Faisal back to them, nor would they punish the man who had caused his son's death. Faisal had taken the bend too fast, lost control and the car had careered into a ravine. In a matter of moments his son was gone, the police told him no one else was involved, no one bore any guilt, it was a tragic accident. The grieving father knew better, he knew who was to blame, and he would make him pay.

What made matters much worse was he was the one who had invited Anthony DiNozzo into his own home, who watched as Faisal fell under the older man's spell. Like a moth to a flame, Faisal had succumbed to the charms of the dashing, suave, sophisticated man who held him enthralled with tales of dazzling parties, beautiful women, fast cars, a world full of wonders. It was no surprise when Faisal came to them and asked to accompany DiNozzo on his return to Monaco; Sheikh Mohammed sighed, how easily DiNozzo had charmed his son, and how foolish he and Suheera had been to agree. They had been able to justify the decision, Faisal needed to learn how to behave in the company of businessmen from outside the Middle East, and this had seemed too good an opportunity to miss; if only he had stopped to think, to find out more about the man who wished to introduce his son to a new world. The truth was the Sheikh had also been beguiled by the American; he had the priceless gift of making whoever he was speaking to feel as if they were the most important person in the world, and who wouldn't be flattered by such attention?

He shuddered; they had been fools indeed to be taken in by DiNozzo's honeyed words, and what a price they had paid. Now the time had come for the final accounting to be made, for DiNozzo to settle the blood debt, not with his own blood, that would be too quick, too easy. A smile totally devoid of warmth spread across Mohammed's face, he had received news earlier this evening, news that had given him the first frisson of pleasure he had felt since Faisal's death. DiNozzo had a son, a son who shared his name and who would soon share the fate of Mohammed's own beloved child. Anthony DiNozzo Senior would feel the pain he lived with every minute of every day, he would know the grief that came from laying his own flesh and blood in the ground, when this profligate father mourned at the graveside of his only son, then and only then would he be able to rest, content in the knowledge that their son had been avenged.

With determination etched on his face Sheikh Mohammed returned to his home ignoring the quiet sobs coming from his wife's room, he hurried to his study, picked up the phone and dialled a number he had never thought to use. His call was answered on the second ring. "You once said if I had need of your...services I could call upon you."

"I keep my promises, you have a name?"

"Anthony DiNozzo Junior, he is an American Federal Agent, will that make a difference?"

"The price is higher, but rest assured the outcome will be the same. My people will begin working immediately; you will be contacted when the task is complete."

"How do I make payment?"

"Look out for a visitor with a contract to sign, he will request part payment, the full balance is to be paid when success is confirmed."

"I...you have my grateful thanks."

"Save your thanks, the task may take some time to complete; my organisation is successful because we take care to complete the contract without harm to our own...consultants, therefore we will not be rushed, is that clear?"

"I can be patient just as long as I know you are working to fulfil my contract."

"You have my word, and as you know my word is my bond. We will not speak again until the...problem is eradicated, fare you well, and accept my condolences on your loss."

His hand was shaking a little as he returned the phone to its cradle, he had done it, he had ordered the death of a fellow human being, could he live with such a burden? Of course he could, if he could live with the searing pain of his own loss he would be able to endure this stain on his conscience. Knowing DiNozzo was suffering the way he did would make his own life bearable, all he had to do was wait.

NCIS NCIS

He stepped from the shower, roughly dried his hair and wrapped the towel around his waist; another job successfully completed and no way to tie him to the murder scene, he smiled. He was good at his job and he was ready to enjoy some of the spoils of his latest success, he knew the payment would soon be in his offshore account; all he had to do was telephone head office to confirm the kill. The recently purchased disposable cell phone was charged and ready to use, he keyed in the number and waited.

"Yes or no?"

"Yes, contract concluded."

"Excellent, payment is being made as we speak. I know you would normally have some time off now, however, I have a job I feel is perfect for your particular range of skills."

He sat down with a sigh; it didn't look as if he was going to be trying his luck at the poker tables in Las Vegas after all. "This had better be good."

"Oh it is I assure you, how would you like to earn a $500,000 bonus?"

"Sounds risky, who is it?"

"An armed Federal Agent, by the name of Anthony DiNozzo, he works for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, from all accounts he is good at his job, very good."

"I'm very good at my job too; I shall look forward to a challenge, so many of my recent contracts have been so easy, I almost feel I'm taking money under false pretences...almost."

"I thought you might enjoy this one. The details will go to the usual place, the password is the name of your training officer, we will speak again when you get to Washington DC."

The call ended and the man packed the few remaining personal possessions still lying on the hotel room bed, He would get a good night's sleep and set off for DC in the morning, he was happy to forgo his usual post-contract recreation, after all it wasn't every day he got to pit his wits against a trained investigator, his smile widened, killing Anthony DiNozzo would be highly satisfying, and he'd have another half a million dollars in his retirement fund, life was sweet indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

6

**Chameleon**

**Chapter One**

"How come every time you buy a new TV I have to set it up for you? Can't you read the user manual?"

"If I had to I would, but I just happen to have a buddy who knows everything there is to know about the tech stuff. You have a thing Tim, I told you before, if I had a thing I would show it off every time...and any place."

"Like your apartment?"

Tony didn't even try to hide his triumphant grin. "Can't think of a better place, can you?"

"And do you have a time in mind?" Tim wished he could be annoyed at Tony for making the assumption that he had nothing to do with his off-duty hours, but with Tony practically fluttering his eyelashes at him it was impossible.

"As it happens, I'm at a loose end Friday night, how about you set up my system and I buy you dinner."

"Pizza or Chinese Tony?"

"You can choose...hey, don't raise your eyebrows at me. If I took you to a restaurant you wouldn't be able to watch a movie on my brand new 47" high definition TV."

"Neither will you if I don't set it up for you."

Tony leaned across Tim's desk. "Pretty please Tim, it won't take long, if you don't want dinner and a movie you'll be done in less than an hour, plenty of time to be, you know, wherever you want to be..."

Tim grinned. "Oh no Tony, you don't get off so easy, I'll set up your TV, you can pay for take-out and we'll watch a movie; my choice."

"Not a Harry Potter movie Tim, please..."

"Deal, they're not as good as the books anyhow. It'll be a surprise, you like surprises, don't you?"

"I like good surprises..."

"Then you'll like this one, okay Tony, I'll set up your TV Friday night, so long as we don't get a new case."

The next three days were quiet; Gibbs took the opportunity to have them all spend some time on the firing range and in the gym. All their outstanding case reports were completed and filed, and it was with a sense of relief that Tony and Tim headed for the parking lot when Gibbs called time early Friday evening.

NCIS NCIS

He watched as the two men entered the apartment building, one of them was his prey, the other he recognised from the dossier he had received. They seemed happy in each other's company, a comfortable, easy companionship such as he had never known. For years he'd been a solitary creature, not by choice, by necessity; in his line of business it would be foolish to make connections, he had to be ready to move at a moment's notice, to become the person who could get the job done.

He made a note of the time and headed off to his hotel. There was no need to wait around any longer, there hadn't really been any need for him to observe the apartment, but if time allowed he always liked to get a feel for the way his targets lived, the more information he had, the more successful he was; to date he had a one hundred percent record, and he intended to keep it that way.

His hotel belonged to one of the ubiquitous chains that seemed to be sprouting everywhere, cold, soulless places where the idea of personal service seemed to be anathema...absolutely perfect for him in his quest to remain invisible. He had checked in using the automated system and had already spent 24 hours in the hotel without speaking to another soul, exactly what he had hoped for when he saw the multi-story concrete monolith for the first time. In the elevator he was careful not to make eye-contact with his fellow passengers, and it wasn't difficult, most people were too wrapped up in their own lives to bother about anyone else. He was the only one to get off on his floor, and even if anyone else had been in the hotel corridor it was unlikely they would give a second glance to the bespectacled, slightly balding man.

He slid the security bolt in place, threw his spectacles on the bed and headed for the bathroom; with a brief smile he picked up a wash bag, took out a small bottle and some cotton pads. He soaked a pad and started to dab along his forehead, little by little the plastic skin started to lift, revealing his natural hairline but not his natural hair colour; for the first stage of this operation he had decided on a dark blonde look. He switched on his recently acquired tablet and settled down to read the dossier again, he had read it so many times he almost knew it by heart, but it never hurt to check again, just in case he'd missed something, he rarely did. Efficiency and accuracy were his bywords; he was good at his job and the rewards for success had been high, but never as high as this contract. It turned out the client was not only willing to pay well for Anthony DiNozzo's death, but he'd also offered a million dollar bonus if DiNozzo was killed within the confines of the Navy Yard and was told why he had to die, an up close and personal killing inside a military base, a huge challenge. He wasn't worried, if anything it made this contract even more enticing; of late his work had become humdrum, routine, almost tedious, and his thoughts had turned more than once to his life when the killing was done. This contract could enable him to change direction, he had a client who was willing to wait provided his conditions were met, and with such a massive bonus on offer this could be the job that gave him the financial freedom to retire from the murder game.

NCIS NCIS

"So Tony, good surprise?"

They were sitting on Tony's couch waiting for the pizza to be delivered, the brand new TV gleaming on its chrome stand.

"You have to ask?"

Tony had been an admiring observer as Tim worked his techie magic; he'd set up the TV without any problems, even managing to get over his dismay that Tony still had a VHS player along with the expected DVD and BluRay machines, then he had surprised Tony by linking up his state of the art sound system to the TV. The difference it made to the quality of his viewing experience was astonishing; and last but not least came the icing on the cake. Tim connected the TV to Tony's internet which would enable him to download movies and watch them, not on the 15 inch laptop screen, but in full, high definition 47 inch splendour.

"Wait 'til you see the movie I've chosen, you might change your mind."

"Tim, after what you've done tonight I'd even sit quiet through _Sleepless in Seattle_."

With a brief chuckle Tim reached into the bag in which he'd carried the cables and connectors required to complete the evening's task. "I wouldn't do that to you Tony; here, a small happy new TV gift, does this one work for you?" He handed Tony a slim metal box.

"_Skyfall_! BluRay, high definition, DFS surround sound...this is a limited edition Tim, are you sure you don't want to keep it?"

"It's all yours Tony."

"Thanks Tim, this one works for me, it works perfectly."

"You sure? I mean some Bond purists weren't so impressed with it, but I've heard it's a good movie."

"Good? It's a great movie and you couldn't have made a better choice, there are some huge set pieces...I won't spoil it for you, but they're going to look and sound great!"

The intercom sounded and Tony let the delivery guy into the building, five minutes later they were digging in to the extra hot pepperoni pizza as the crystal clear picture took them on another adventure with Tony's favourite movie character. After the sensational opening sequence Tony glanced over at his friend and smiled when he heard a whispered, "Wow."

As Adele's voice filled the room Tony took a sip of his beer. "Thanks for this Tim, all of this, seriously..."

"No problem, it was pretty easy stuff; now, I know it's hard for you, but do you think you can keep quiet for a while, you may have seen this movie before, but it's all new to me."

"Gotcha!" Tony leaned back and let himself be drawn back into the fantasy world that was a James Bond movie. From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of gold and smiled again. Kate really seemed to be enjoying having another goldfish for company, the smile slipped for a moment. He'd known loss in his life, at times it felt like all he'd known was loss, but sitting here, a great movie being screened in all its glory and his best friend by his side, life felt good, it felt very good indeed.

NCIS NCIS

His supper had been as tasteless as he'd expected when he made his purchases earlier. No matter, a pre-packaged BLT sandwich and a bag of potato chips had sated his hunger, and when he was working that was all he wanted from his food. Gourmet dining and indulging in fine wines was for times when he was between contracts, not for when he was working. As he dried himself off following a long, hot shower he took a look at his reflection, yet another change of persona, sometimes it was hard to remember...

As a young man he had known exactly what he wanted to do, his career was mapped out, his future assured…how quickly things had changed and how easily he had put aside the man he was. There were times he almost forgot Jeremy Stanley had truly existed, for so many years he had spent his life being different people, hiding his true identity behind make-up, hair-pieces, body padding, anything to hide who he really was. He used every means at his disposal to blend into the background, to hide in plain sight, it was a skill that had served him very well and had gained him the admiration of his fellow Assassins. The soubriquet they had given him reflected his skill at remaining hidden and at liberty after years of working for the organisation, it was a name he relished; The Chameleon.


	5. Chameleon Chapter Two

8

**Chapter Two**

"Donald! How are you this evening? We missed you at the Barnett's last week."

"I'm well, thank you Philip; I'm afraid last week work got in the way. However, tonight I'm free, and looking forward to a very good evening."

"I think I can guarantee that Don, we have two new members, which is always good news; the Georgetown Bridge Club needs new blood if we're to survive."

"Indeed, how many tables shall we have?"

"Four; now, let me introduce you." Philip Martin took Ducky's arm and led him toward the spacious lounge.

Ducky had met Philip in a neighbourhood grocery store not long after his move to Georgetown, when a conversation regarding the merits of Blue Stilton over White led to a pot of tea at a nearby coffee shop and the discovery of a shared interest in contract bridge. Keen to make connections in his new neighbourhood Ducky had accepted Philip's invitation to join the bridge club, and from then on, provided work allowed he had been delighted to join his fellow enthusiasts for their weekly Wednesday get together.

Philip pointed to a man and woman standing by the window, a little apart from the others who were enjoying a pre-game drink. "Come along you two, I promise we're a friendly crowd; let me introduce you to one of our best players. Heather Fulton, William Cahill, say hi to Doctor Donald Mallard; he's a wonderful partner, and a formidable opponent."

Ducky shook hands with their new members and smiled. "As ever, Philip exaggerates; welcome to our group. I hope you enjoy your time here as much as I do."

"I hope so Doctor, I'm afraid it's some time since I played so I may be a little rusty."

"Well, that is most certainly not an accent from this side of The Pond." With a warm smile Ducky ushered William Cahill toward the card tables.

"No Doctor..."

"No formalities here please, it's Donald."

"Okay, Donald, you're quite right, I'm very much a visitor here, home is Shrewsbury."

"Ah, Cadfael Country!"

William laughed. "You've been looking at the Shropshire Tourist Board web site."

With a shrug and a wry smile Ducky admitted, "On occasion I do think about planning a trip back to the UK when I retire; dabbling on the world wide web can be very enlightening."

"Hey you two, there'll be time for conversation later, shall we get down to the evening's competition?" Philip put a guiding hand on William's arm and led him away.

Ducky had hoped to be seated at the same table as William Cahill, he would have enjoyed chatting about Blighty, unfortunately Philip had already made the pairings and Ducky was partnered with their other new member. The evening passed pleasantly enough, as it usually did when he was playing bridge and Heather proved to be a more than capable partner. It seemed no time at all before Ducky was heading home, he hadn't managed to speak to William again, but there was always next week.

He waited until the small sports car pulled away before he emerged from the shadows, there was a slight smile on his face. The evening had gone well, he had been welcomed into the club and been introduced to Doctor Mallard; Philip Martin had offered to seat him at the doctor's table but he didn't want to rush things, next week would be soon enough.

It had been an easy decision to use the Medical Examiner as his admission ticket into NCIS, trying to get close to a member of the MCRT could have taken too long, and would have too many risks. Trained investigators were likely to be on their guard more than an elderly man who lived alone and craved social interaction. The good doctor's British background was a bonus he'd been delighted to use to his own advantage.

He'd lied about pretty much everything during the course of the evening, but one thing was true, he was from England, although it seemed as if that part of his life had happened to a stranger...

He'd been raised in Telford, a soulless new town in the heart of England, the town was home to a huge shopping centre, many industrial units and thousands of newly built homes for the men and women working there or in nearby Shrewsbury. His father had worked in a jeweller's in Shrewsbury, but with property prices in the picturesque riverside town prohibitive to a man on his salary; he'd bought a house on the outskirts of Telford, a house he turned into a loving home for his wife and son. The son who became a killer...how had it happened?

His childhood had been untroubled; full of the security that came from knowing his parents loved each other almost as much as they loved him. Then cancer took his mother; a slow, agonising death that had forged the bond between father and son stronger than ever. It had been a bittersweet day when he left home to take up a full scholarship at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. Sometimes he felt that was the last day he was truly Jeremy Stanley, afterwards his whole life had been about being someone else. First of all learning the skills required to fulfil his acting ambitions, learning to speak, to walk, to appear as someone other than himself. Sadly, his acting career progressed no further than a single TV commercial and a summer repertory season in the seaside town of Eastbourne.

He had loved his time at RADA and had been convinced his acting career would go from strength to strength, how foolish he had been, how short sighted and egotistical. So many of his fellow students had the same dreams and some of them had real talent; he was a good technician, supremely proficient in make-up and voice work, his ear for languages and accents was second to none. What he lacked was heart, the elusive ability to connect with an audience, and he came to realise he'd never get to the top of his profession, with luck he would make a living, but his name would never be up in lights.

He'd often wondered whether he would have been content with such an existence; maybe he'd have married, had children, given life instead of taking it. He remembered each life he'd taken, but the only one that caused him to wake at night sweating and trembling was the first one, the only death that hadn't been planned...

No time to dwell on the past, he had research to complete before next Wednesday's bridge evening. It was getting late, time to get back to his hotel and get some rest before his visit to George Washington University, he had an early start and didn't want to miss his appointment.

NCIS NCIS

"It's been too long, good to see the old place again." Tony took three more pictures of the area around the body and handed the camera to Tim. "Quick, before Gibbs comes back, take a picture of me."

"Are you serious? We have a dead Petty Officer in case you hadn't noticed."

"I know, isn't it great? No, that came out wrong; I know it's bad, I mean he's dead right? But Tim, it's a dead Petty Officer in Rock Creek Park, do you know how long it is since we've been here, and he was even found in the creek, come on Tim, just one picture."

Tim glanced over his shoulder; Gibbs was still talking with the Park Ranger who had helped drag the body from the water. "Okay, hurry."

Tony struck a pose; Tim took a couple of shots. "Just to be on the safe side, could be a long time before we're out here again." Tony took the camera and got back to work and Tim finished taking measurements.

"Doesn't look as if our victim put up a fight." Tim stooped beside the body, taking note of the lack of visible wounds. "Wish Ducky would get here, then I could check his fingerprints."

"Looks like your wish is our command McEager." Tony pointed to the service road as the ME's truck came to a halt.

Gibbs called out, "Hey Duck, didn't expect you to get lost on your way here."

"We weren't lost, there was an accident, we had to take an unscheduled detour. We're here now and ready to work; Mr Palmer, let's get on."

As soon as Ducky completed his preliminary examination Tim was able to take the victim's fingerprints and confirm his identification. "Petty Officer Alfonso Lyon, got back from a six month tour of duty two weeks ago, due to report to the Navy Yard this morning."

"Duck, cause of death?"

"No obvious wounds, it's possible he drowned, but I don't see any obvious signs of asphyxia. I'm afraid I can't offer a definitive answer until I've completed the autopsy Jethro."

"Okay, call me when you get something. DiNozzo, McGee, bag and tag, we have work to do."

NCIS NCIS

"No, get away! Leave me alone!" He was cold, and he was sweating, it was always like this when the nightmare came. He hurried out of bed and into the bathroom; he knew from past experience that the only way to get warm was to have a hot shower; it had been a long time since that face had invaded his sleep. So young, so foolish...

It had been a windswept, rainy night in Eastbourne when his life changed direction forever; the final curtain had come down on the summer season and having played to a half-full auditorium he was on his way back to his boarding house for the last time. In a few days time the court case would begin, and the man responsible for killing his father would go to prison, ever since the police had told him his father had been killed by a driver running a red light the only thing that had sustained him was the thought of the killer spending years behind bars. It was so unfair, his father had been so proud when Jeremy graduated from RADA, and had been looking forward to spending a week of his holiday at the seaside, and to watching his son on stage, he never got the chance, his life snuffed out because someone had decided they were fit to drive even after four pints and three shots of vodka. Jeremy had struggled to fulfil his contract at the theatre, but what was there for him in Telford, he no longer thought of it as home, and without his father he had no reason to go back. When the case was over he'd sell the house, the money would help when he didn't have work, and as things stood he had nothing, not even a voice over for an audio book.

He was hurrying back, head down against the driving rain when he heard the voice, "Your money, empty your pockets now, give me your money!" The man had come out of the shadows, despite the poor street lighting Jeremy could see the glint of metal, he had a knife. Jeremy stumbled on the wet cobblestones and the mugger grabbed his jacket and leaned in to whisper, "I said, give me your money." Jeremy smelled the alcohol on the man's breath and something snapped inside, he was drunk, just like the bastard who'd killed his father. His anger gave him power and he pushed the man away, "Don't touch me! You want money, go and work for it!"

The man leapt to his feet and came at Jeremy with the knife; without thought, acting only on instinct Jeremy wrestled the knife from his hand and in a moment of white hot rage he turned the knife on his attacker and stabbed him, again and again the blade hit home, once he'd started it felt like he'd never stop. It was only when the bloodied handle became too wet to hold that he stopped, breathless and sick to his stomach he looked down on the man who had threatened him...man, he was barely out of his teens...Jeremy had panicked, pausing only to pick up the knife he ran, through the wet streets he ran barely able to breathe, racing down anonymous streets without a thought for his destination. Eventually, unable to go any further he collapsed on the ground, the knife was still in his hand, but there was no blood, the rain had done its work and washed it away, he studied his trembling hands, they were clean too. What should he do, go to the police, admit what he had done? He shook his head, he couldn't do that, they'd put him away, and he had to be there when his father's killer was brought to justice...if he stayed, even if they believed he'd acted in self-defence, no, they'd never believe that, not with so many wounds...he couldn't do it, he'd go back to collect his clothes, catch the first train home tomorrow, if the police came for him so be it, he'd take his chances, but he couldn't stay...

He'd found out later that his attacker was a homeless drug addict with a long record of muggings and assaults, it didn't stop his face haunting Jeremy, for all his sins the man had looked so young, almost angelic as he drew his last breath. He'd looked up at Jeremy and before the life left his eyes he pleaded to be spared, it was too late, and Jeremy Stanley had killed for the first time.

NCIS NCIS

Petty Officer Lyon had been transported to NCIS then Gibbs and his depleted team settled into their well-drilled routine, a picture emerged of a young man who was dedicated to the US Navy and had recently signed up for a further five years. He had no financial problems, no blemishes on his record, what he did have was a new girlfriend, Alicia North.

As Tony put it two days later when Brett Voges was in custody. "Classic love-triangle murder, Alicia's ex wanted her back, in his twisted mind he figured in he got rid of his rival she'd go running back to him, stupid mistake, she was done with him long before Lyon turned up."

"Lyon seemed like one of the good guys, it was because he tried to be friends with Voges that he agreed to meet him for a drink the night he died." Tim collected his report from the printer. "It was pretty cold, drugging Lyon and ditching him in the creek, poor guy never stood a chance."

Tony nodded sadly, "Voges is going away for the rest of his life, doesn't even things out, but at least he didn't get away with murder. We got justice for Alfonso Lyon Tim, can't ask for more than that."


	6. Chameleon Chapter Three

8

**Chameleon**

**Chapter Three**

"One of these days I'm going to get here before you." Tony was feeling good; they'd put another killer away and his restful Sunday had included a surprise phone call from his dad. They'd had a long talk, cleared the air about a few things, seemed like they did that a lot, and ended up laughing together. Still in a good mood this morning he'd tried to get to work before Tim so he could surprise him with coffee and a doughnut.

"Hey Tony, I didn't know it was a competition; you've been here before me a few times."

"Not many, how was your Sunday?"

"Good, took Delilah out for lunch, caught up on a few things. How about you?"

"Dad called."

"Oh...good or bad?"

Tony smiled at the note of worry in Tim's voice. "Let's say we're still talking, and he's still making promises, maybe he'll even keep one." He put Tim's coffee and doughnut on his desk and put a cup of Gibbs' favourite brew on his desk before settling at his own work station.

"Thanks Tony." Tim took a sip of his coffee and unwrapped the doughnut, no sprinkles, he smiled; Tony really couldn't stand it when he picked off the sprinkles. He didn't mind, the doughnut tasted the same, he just enjoyed the mindless activity involved in sprinkle removal.

"You seen the Boss this morning?"

"No, his car is in the lot, but I haven't seen him." Tim's desk phone started ringing and he picked up quickly. "Agent McGee...sure Boss, we're on our way." He replaced the receiver and turned to Tony, "Boss wants to see us in the Director's office."

Tony cast a furtive glance up the stairs and then back at Tim. "What did you do?"

"Me! Why would it be something I did?"

"Come on, if one of us is going to be chewed out, there's only one likely candidate."

NCIS NCIS

The dark haired man limped through the busy campus, his cane clicking on the asphalt as he made his way to the faculty library. He presented his ID, headed for the nearest vacant carrel and logged on to the University intranet. His research was almost complete and one more morning should see this part of his task complete.

Some of his fellow Assassins had scoffed at the amount of time he spent on research, but over time as one successful contract followed another and as some of them fell by the wayside, those who survived realised it was one of the things that set him apart from the ranks in the organisation. He'd come so far from the rain-soaked streets of Eastbourne, and killed so many...

If his first victim still haunted his dreams, the second had never caused him to lose a moment of sleep. He'd spent three nights at the family home in Telford, what a misnomer that had become, he had no family, he was alone. The only thing that had sustained him in the frightening, confusing days after his hurried departure from Eastbourne was the thought that the man responsible for his father's death would soon be paying for his actions. A few years in prison would at least begin to redress the balance of justice. Then it had all fallen apart, he'd arrived at court hoping to see justice done only to find his father's killer laughing outside the courtroom. Jeremy had stood dumbly uncomprehending as the barrister for the Crown Prosecution Service told him that due to a number of technicalities regarding Naylor's blood test, the case had been dismissed. He had felt the rage rising inside and had barely managed to keep his hands from Naylor's throat, particularly when he taunted him.

"Your dad was too slow; if he'd crossed the road quicker, he'd be alive today."

Jeremy had reeled back in shock and had hardly been aware of comforting hands leading him away. He'd gone back home and cried until his body ached, but as the hours passed he was filled with a new resolve, the man who had ended his father's life had to die. It had taken a few days to accomplish his task, days and nights spent following Naylor, changing his appearance regularly to avoid recognition, working out the best time to make his move.

It happened on a cool, dry night; Naylor had been drinking at his local watering hole and as usual was one of the last to leave. Jeremy followed his prey's unsteady walk home, the knife held tight in his hand. Naylor staggered into a dark alley and Jeremy watched in disgust as he began to urinate against the wall; when he was done Naylor staggered again as a heavy hand grabbed him, he heard a whisper, "This is for Matthew Stanley." There was searing heat in his chest, then nothing.

Jeremy Stanley had committed his first pre-meditated murder.

NCIS NCIS

"Tony, are you okay?"

"Oh just peachy McGee. I've got an international assassin out to kill me; I'm having a freaking spectacular day!"

Tim got back to running what had so far proved to be fruitless searches, he didn't blame Tony for being on edge; after the news they'd been given yesterday anyone would forgive him for not being at his best.

They had known something was badly wrong the minute they walked into Director Vance's office; they'd sat in silence as Gibbs outlined what they knew. He had heard from one of his NSA contacts that there was an unusual amount of chatter about a contract being issued on a federal agent, and the agent's name was Anthony DiNozzo.

Tony was initially sceptical. "Come on Boss, if we don't have people after us we're not doing our job, we're targets for some whack-job every day."

But Gibbs and Vance were in no mood to take the threat lightly, the information came from a reputable source who'd checked and double-checked the data. He'd concluded the contract had been taken up by the elusive and highly secretive Assassins and that they had passed it on to their most successful operative, The Chameleon.

Tony had grinned at that. "You kidding me? That's the kind of name they used in bad 50's B movie thrillers."

"This is no joke Tony." Gibbs pointed to the plasma. "You see that?"

"There's nothing there Boss, did you forget to click the clicker?"

Gibbs slammed his fist on the table. "So help me DiNozzo! There's nothing there because that's what we know about The Chameleon. Intel can't give us an ID, seems like no one ever sees him. He's a stone-cold killer who gets the job done and he's never been caught, not even close, he's never left so much as a stand of hair or a fingerprint..."

"Okay Boss, I buy it, what do we do?"

"We keep you safe, and we find this bastard."

They'd spent the last thirty-six hours succeeding in the first task, but failing to find any trace of The Chameleon. Tony already hated the safe house and he baulked at being followed everywhere by his protection detail.

"We'll get him Tony."

"Sure we will; damn it Tim, I've pissed off so many people."

"Nature of the job, we're always likely to be making enemies. We need to narrow it down, may take more time than you'd like, but we'll get it done. How are you doing with your list?"

"Almost half-way...told you Tim, I've pissed off a lot of people."

NCIS NCIS

"Congratulations Donald, you and William were on good form tonight."

"He's a very fine player Philip, such a pity he's only visiting." Ducky had enjoyed the evening, much more than he'd expected, they were all worried about Tony but Gibbs had insisted he take some time off, and in truth there was little for him to do at NCIS. "Ah, thank you William." Ducky took the tumbler of whisky and sniffed appreciatively. "Excellent, one of the benefits of this week's venue being one block from home, walking distance means I can have a drink, and Alan keeps a very fine Scotch. Now young man, you said you wanted a word."

They'd kept up a light-hearted conversation whenever the game allowed, sharing stories of places they'd both visited, Ducky had surprised himself by felling a little homesick on more than one occasion; he hadn't lived in the UK for many years, but somehow it wouldn't let go of his heart...

"Yes, I didn't want to mention it when the others were around but I do have to offer you my most sincere apologies."

"Gracious! Whatever have you done?" Ducky had warmed to the younger man during the evening, and was genuinely puzzled.

"I failed to recognise you! Doctor Donald Mallard, Medical Examiner at NCIS. For heaven's sake it was only recently that I read your article on forensic psychology in the _Journal of Forensic Sciences_."

"Good Lord, why ever would you be reading such a thing, are you a forensic scientist?"

William looked somewhat embarrassed. "To tell the truth Donald, I'm conducting research for a book."

"How exciting!"

With a slight shrug William continued, "I'm not so sure. I wanted to write a serious scholarly exploration of the criminal psyche; pitched the idea to a few academic publishers."

"Let me guess, no takers?"

"Exactly, so...and this is really embarrassing, I changed emphasis, changed my target publishers and got a few promises to read my first draft."

"Well that's an improvement, did you get an advance?"

"No, I'm using my savings to get the research done; I wish I could have succeeded without compromising on quality...writing a book on the psychology of sin was never part of my life-plan."

"Oh dear, I can see that's not quite what you were hoping for."

"You could say that, seems sin sells, genuine academic work...not so much."

Ducky didn't like to see his bridge partner looking so gloomy; was there something he could do to cheer him up, perhaps introduce him to their resident best-selling author? No, he couldn't do that; Timothy preferred to keep his two careers separate...there was something. "William, how would you like to visit NCIS? Perhaps a look around Autopsy can offer some insight into the way we go about catching criminals."

"Really?" William's smile was heart warming.

"I can offer you a guided tour as far as I am allowed, there are of course some areas which must remain out of bounds, and I couldn't allow you to observe an actual autopsy I'm afraid, but there is much of interest to be seen."

"That would be...are you sure it's not too much trouble?"

"It would be my pleasure, just bear in mind I may have to cancel at short notice if we get a new case."

"I understand Donald, I can't thank you enough."

"Not at all, it's the least I can do to thank you for helping me defeat the Bartlett's for the first time."

"I enjoyed it, as I'm sure I'll enjoy seeing your place of work."

They'd parted soon after, Ducky politely refusing William's offer to walk him to his door. "I'm not quite decrepit just yet, but thank you. I have your number and I'll call with final arrangements. Good night."

William had waved and made his way toward the Metro station, his blonde hair glistening like a halo in the street lights. This was so much better than he could have hoped, within a week he was well on his way to getting closer to his latest and hopefully last victim. To have the means to retire from this bloody business after so many years of killing, it would be so good; one more corpse for someone to weep over and he'd be done.


	7. Chameleon Chapter Four

8

**Chameleon **

**Chapter Four**

"Just my luck, I get a state of the art TV and I'm stuck here with a stinking antique."

"Can't get antique TVs Tony, antiques have to be at least one hundred years old."

"I'm on the edge here Tim, don't push me. This thing doesn't even have cable." He threw the remote on the coffee table. "What are you still doing here? You have a home to go to."

Tim sat on the couch beside his very tense friend; the safe house wasn't luxurious by any means, but it was comfortable and clean, and most important, its location was known to very few people. Right now he'd take the whining without complaint so long as Tony didn't repeat his threat to go back to his own apartment, he'd be a verbal punch-bag as long as necessary to keep Tony secure.

"You have a home Tony; it's just not safe to be there right now."

"I'd rather take my chances there than rot in this...look at it, nothing but brown as far as the eye can see."

Tim couldn't help smiling, there was a lot of wooden furniture, the couch was upholstered in brown corduroy, even the kitchen cabinets were dark wood; it was all such a contrast to Tony's light, airy apartment. "Not exactly cheery I'll admit."

"Then get me out of here Tim, let me go home,"

"Not happening Tony, and seriously, do you want to put your new TV at risk; remember what happened to your stereo last time someone hit your apartment? Hey, I saw that, there was a definite smile there."

"Busted! Guess it's not so bad here if I've got good company, some of the agents on my security detail...no sense of humour." He leaned back with a sigh. "Seems like I've got a target posted on my back, only this time it feels different. When someone's been after me before, or after us, we've been able to get to the bottom of it, find out why we were targeted. This time...nothing."

"Nothing so far Tony, doesn't mean we won't get there. I know you're frustrated, we are too, you've seen Gibbs, he's doing his best grizzly bear impression. Abby, she's mainlining Caf-Pow so she stays alert in case we get more evidence. The Director has every available agent working this, lots of favours being called in from other agencies."

"And we've still got squat! I can't do this much longer Tim, I'm going stir-crazy and I'm not even locked up."

Gibbs had agreed to have Tony work with them at NCIS during the day, and it had been a good decision, Tim didn't want to think what Tony's mental state would be if he was cooped up in the safe house all day, every day.

"Come on Tony, we're unstoppable remember?"

"Virtually."

"Totally! We're going to find who's behind this threat, and we're going to catch The Chameleon before he gets to you. We've got your back Tony, like always; we look out for each other."

Tony put his arm round Tim's shoulder and gave him a brief hug.

"Hey Tony, no getting mushy on me; you told me this thing has a DVD player right?"

Tony nodded, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. Tim reached into his back pack. "I was thinking about what you said when I fixed your TV, made it easy to choose a movie for tonight."

Tony took the plastic case from Tim and tried hard not to let his disappointment show. "Yeah...good choice, haven't seen _Sleepless in Seattle_ in a while."

Tim tried to keep his face straight, he really did, but seeing Tony's expression he couldn't help himself, he grinned. "You really think I'd do that to you when you're under pressure? Open the box Tony."

Tony's eyes lit up when he did as Tim instructed. "_Blazing Saddles_! Mel Brooks at his hilarious best, great choice Tim. Are you going to watch with me?"

"Sure; if you do just one thing for me."

"Don't worry, I won't talk during the movie, I promise."

NCIS NCIS

"Name?"

"William Cahill."

The Marine on duty checked his list of approved visitors. "You're here to see Doctor Mallard?"

"That's correct."

"Here's your visitor badge, please wear this at all times. Take a seat sir; I'll call security to escort you to Autopsy."

He sat on the chair indicated, still barely able to believe he was so close to his target. It wasn't the first time in his career he'd breached a high-security building, but never before had he been invited inside.

His career...how very far he had strayed from his original path, from actor to assassin, did he regret his choice, was it even a choice? Sometimes it seemed as if killing was what he had been born to do. After Naylor's death he'd left the sale of his home in the hands of an estate agent along with his bank account details for any eventual payment. It had taken time to sell the house, but by then his money troubles were a thing of the past; he'd headed to London to seek his fortune, as so many had before him. Unlike them, he was under no illusions as to how hard life was in the capital, it took time for him to make the contacts he knew could help him pursue his new-found skill. He didn't waste the time; he took classes in martial arts, spent hours in the gym, practised his makeup and voice skills, anything he thought he might require to evade detection.

After several abortive attempts to get deep inside the East End gang scene he'd struck gold when he assisted a highly placed gang member during a potentially explosive pub confrontation. Over time he'd made himself indispensable to the gang, running errands, delivering drugs, collecting debts, handing out punishments, and eventually they'd asked him to take out a turncoat member. The killing had been quick, clean and unsolved, from that day he was given more contracts and eventually came to the attention of the most skilful and feared killers the world had ever known, an organisation with its roots in the Crusades of the eleventh century, The Assassins.

He'd left England without a qualm; the world was his to explore, no one was safe when The Assassins agreed to kill them. They could always run, and many did, but they couldn't hide.

"Mr Cahill, please follow me."

He followed the tall man to the elevator, with a satisfied smile he stepped inside, closer, he was getting closer.

NCIS NCIS

"So William, what do you think of NCIS?"

"Absolutely fascinating, from the outside it looks a little...jaded, outdated, but when you get inside, goodness, everything is very much up to the minute, and your forensic scientist, she's something else."

"Indeed, Abigail marches to the beat of her very own drummer, but don't let the tattoos and strange attire fool you, she has a razor sharp mind and is a first-rate scientist."

Jeremy found that hard to believe, but he of all people knew better than to be fooled by appearances. "She certainly knows her way around the lab, it has been an amazing experience Donald, I can't thank you enough for allowing me to visit you here. I know it will help me tremendously when I come to write my book."

"Think nothing of it William, we may not be at the cutting edge of crime fighting, we're a little too far down the federal food chain for that, but we do our best, and if it doesn't sound too boastful, I have to say I think we do a pretty good job. Now, before you go how would you like to sit in one of our interrogation rooms, get a feel for what it's like to be on the other side of the law?"

"Sounds great, lead on Donald."

As they walked along the corridors to the interrogation area Jeremy was weighing up his options. Killing DiNozzo inside the NCIS building was looking like a suicide mission, if he did manage to get close enough to his prey there was no way he could kill him and get out of the building without detection. The contract bonus could still be earned if he killed DiNozzo within the Navy Yard, if the building was out of the question he'd have to look a little further afield.

"Penny for them William?"

He gave a quick chuckle. "My apologies Donald, I'm afraid I'm already working out how to fit what I've seen today into my book. This visit has given me so much material, I really can't thank you enough."

"Nonsense, it's always a pleasure to show such an enthusiastic visitor around. Here we are, interrogation; these rooms have housed some of the worst dregs of society...oh, Timothy, I didn't think anyone was in here, the light outside..."

"It's okay Ducky, so long as you're not saying I'm one of the dregs." Tim's eyebrows went up as he gave his visitors a wry smile.

"Never! Special Agent Timothy McGee, I'd like to introduce William Cahill, a new friend from the old country."

"Good to meet you." Tim shook hands with Cahill and turned to gather up his papers.

"Don't let us disturb you Timothy."

"Not a problem, I came down here for a little peace and quiet, Tony...he's kind of antsy today."

"Understandably so; please, don't let us hurry you away."

"It's fine Ducky; I should get back, don't like to leave him to his own devices too long. I'll let you carry on with your visit."

Ducky hadn't intended introducing William to Timothy; he didn't want to put Tim on the spot regarding his writing, but now the opportunity had arisen so fortuitously it seemed a shame to let it pass. If he put it subtly Tim would have the option of not mentioning his alter ego if he wished. "William is fascinated by our work Timothy; he's researching for a book he hopes to have published."

"If I ever get a publisher." William shrugged. "To be honest even if I never publish, I'm having a great time doing the research, if that doesn't sound weird."

Tim was half-way through the door, but he smiled at William, oh yes, he remembered how tough it was to find a good publisher. "Look, I don't have time to talk now, but if you need any advice you can give me a call, Ducky has my number, and if you give him your email I can send you the names of some reputable literary agents."

"That...that's very good of you, thank you."

"You're welcome. See you later Ducky." He gave a quick wave and was gone.

Jeremy took a deep breath, that had been an unexpected and unwelcome encounter. He had hoped his visit would have been concluded without meeting a member of DiNozzo's team, the more distance he kept between them the better.

"Are you alright William, you seem a little breathless?"

He had to think fast to cover his momentary loss of control. "I just can't believe I've done it again...that was Thom E. Gemcity wasn't it, and I let him go without telling him how much I enjoy his books. First not recognising your name, now a bestselling author...I'm losing my touch."

"Not at all, this is hardly the kind of environment where you would expect to meet a fully fledged crime novelist, it's no wonder you missed it. Now, would you like to take a seat and picture yourself as a criminal?" Jeremy sat down opposite the two-way mirror, oh if only you knew Doctor Mallard, if only you knew.

The rest of his visit passed without incident, he'd taken McGee's number, and left Ducky with one of the many email addresses he had, they were never used, not by him, but they were useful when he needed an address in a hurry. As he left the Navy Yard he took the piece of paper with McGee's number, tore it up and threw it in the nearest trash can, no call to keep something he was never going to use. He boarded the Metro with a broad smile on his face; his next kill was close, so close he could almost taste it.


	8. Chameleon Chapter Five

11

**Chameleon**

**Chapter Five**

He examined his reflection in the full-length mirror of his hotel room. The man looking back at him had dark, wavy hair, a neat moustache and goatee beard transformed his face from the blue-eyes blonde who'd played bridge with Donald Mallard. Brown contact lenses masked his hazel eyes, he'd dyed his eyebrows and put in a partial denture to transform the shape of his mouth, no one who had ever met William Cahill would recognise this man.

His clothes had been carefully chosen, designed to make him blend into the background. He'd purchased the outfit over several days and using several identities; even if his mission was simply to buy clothes from thrift stores he was careful to avoid the possibility of anyone picking up a pattern of behaviour on CCTV. He was satisfied with his choice; black jeans, pale blue shirt, last season's Nikes, he slipped on a slightly shabby leather jacket to complete the ensemble. Very carefully he put his knife in the special pocket he'd stitched inside the jacket; the knife was razor sharp, a custom-made ceramic blade which enabled him to get through metal-detectors unchallenged.

Finally, he picked up his NCIS ID card and slipped it in his back pocket, the forgery was perfect, as he'd known it would be when he requested it. All he had to do was send a photograph of his chosen make-up and one of the networks of Assassin experts created the ID; he'd collected it from a designated drop-site and the final piece of his persona was in place.

He checked the room one last time, everything he had bought in with him had been removed except for the bag he would pick up on his way out. It was a routine he carried out every time on the day of a kill; all the prosthetics he'd used, the hairpieces, the make-up had been dumped in garbage cans throughout the neighbourhood. His clothes were deposited in recycling bins, the credit cards he'd used cut into pieces and trashed; anything that might conceivably have traces of his DNA or hair were gone. He didn't have to clean the room of fingerprints; they had been removed, painfully and efficiently, soon after he was recruited by The Assassins.

Satisfied that he'd left nothing incriminating behind he took the elevator down to reception, and dropped his key-card in the express checkout box. He was eager to be on his way, but there were a few things he had to discard before he journeyed to the Navy Yard. Everything he had planned was in place, today was the day Anthony DiNozzo Junior would meet his maker.

NCIS NCIS

"If I have endangered Anthony I will never forgive myself. How could I be so foolish? He was so charming, full of tales of England...he played me and I fell for it hook, line and sinker."

"Don't beat yourself up Duck, he hasn't evaded capture so long because he's an amateur, he's good at what he does." Ducky had been despondent ever since Tim did a background check on William Cahill and came up blank, it was as if the man didn't exist.

"But how could I miss it? Suddenly out of nowhere, there's someone from the UK, who not only excels at bridge, but knows a very great deal about forensics, particularly psychological autopsies, and he just happens to turn up at one of my bridge evenings...it's true what they say, there's no fool like an old fool."

Gibbs put a hand on his old friend's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "Never met less of a fool in my life than you Duck. This guy, you think he's called The Chameleon because he stands out? He's made a career out of being someone he's not, moving around in plain sight without anyone knowing what he's really doing, if you've been fooled, it was an expert who fooled you."

Ducky slumped lower in his chair. "That should make me feel better, but it doesn't...I brought him inside Jethro, right here into the heart of NCIS. He knows the building, where we work; I might as well have given him a map."

"You didn't take him into the squad room, or MTAC, or Cyber Crimes, or any of the other places out of bounds to regular visitors; he doesn't know where we work or our security systems. Don't worry; we're watching out for Tony, why do you think McGee checked on Cahill? We're not taking any chances Duck, Tony's going to be okay."

NCIS NCIS

He joined the throng moving toward the gate; this was by far the busiest time of the day for admissions into the Navy Yard and had been deliberately chosen. A steady stream of people filed through the gates, the guards checked their ID badges, but in truth it was mostly a brief look and a wave through, just as he'd hoped. The only danger was if he was selected for a spot check, if they did a body search they couldn't fail to find the knife, but if his previous observations told him anything, they told him it was only people setting off the metal detector who were frisked. He forced himself to relax as his turn came, and walked through the barriers without incident, he was inside, now all he had to do was wait for DiNozzo to leave the building. He was a patient man, and if he didn't get his opportunity until DiNozzo left for the safe house he'd take his chances...if he had to kill the two people on security detail to get to DiNozzo, so be it, he'd done it before, and he had no qualms about leaving collateral damage in his wake.

The NCIS headquarters building loomed large, but that wasn't his destination; he was going to spend his time outside, exploring the refreshment areas, the gardens, the riverside walks. He wanted to know this area like the back of his hand, when he killed DiNozzo, he'd need a quick escape route, and if his prey did spend any time outside he wanted to find the perfect place to carry out his task.

NCIS NCIS

"Why don't you admit it, the BOLO's useless, you may have a picture of this William Cahill guy, but who says that he still looks like this? Heck, we know for a fact the one person he won't look like is Cahill." Tony was pacing back and forth, staring up at the image on the plasma, trying to see beyond the flat two-dimensional picture to see the real man behind the mask.

Tim looked up from his screen, he'd been sending out further information on the BOLO, determined to stay positive if only for Tony's sake. "We've got more than we had forty-eight hours ago; at least we know how tall he is."

"Unless he was wearing built-up shoes, face it Tim, we've got...Ow!"

"You say nothing one more time Tony, we won't have to worry about The Chameleon, I'll kill you myself." Gibbs pointed to Tony's desk. "You want us to have more, then work, we have surveillance footage, how about you stop whining and start looking."

"On it." Tony took a DVD from the selection on his desk and with a deep sigh opened the disc drive on his computer. He knew Gibbs was only trying to keep him focussed, everyone was on edge, they were all trying so hard to catch the guy, and he was grateful, but he couldn't help feeling he was on the end of a line and was just waiting for someone to reel him in and make the kill.

The shrill ringtone on Gibbs' phone broke the uncomfortable silence. "I'm on my way Abs." He hurried down to the lab and Tim gave Tony a quick smile.

"He's worried too Tony, only he doesn't know how to say..."

"I know...just don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Not much longer Tony, we're getting closer, I feel it. I've got a satellite link with Abu Dhabi; you want to join me in MTAC?"

"Nah, might as well do as Gibbs says, who knows I might even find the needle in the needle stack." They both smiled at Ziva's fondly remembered struggles with English idiom and went about their tasks.

NCIS NCIS

It had been a fruitful morning, the area surrounding the headquarters building was well-served by CCTV cameras, but the coverage was by no means universal, and he'd identified several potential kill sites. He'd settled on a bench near the river where he could see the comings and goings from the building, it also gave him a good sight-line to the refreshment carts, all he needed now was for DiNozzo to come through those doors...this couldn't be; it was too good to be true. Walking out into the bright sunshine was the man who was going to make him a millionaire, and he was alone.

This was no time to hurry, watch and wait; see where he was going. Coffee, of course he'd be going for coffee, okay that worked, it was one of the scenarios he'd planned in advance. He got up from the bench and headed for the refreshment cart, don't rush, wait for the right moment.

Tony took a sip of his coffee, it tasted good, so much better out here in the fresh air; he'd take a few minutes to feel the sun on his face, then go back inside.

"Agent DiNozzo, hey! Wait up please."

Tony stopped and turned around to see a face he didn't recognise, he wasn't concerned, the bearded man was wearing NCIS ID, he was one of their own.

"Sorry to hold you up Agent DiNozzo, you don't know me, I started just last week on the Communications Team; Luke Stirling."

"Good to meet you, seems like you already know me."

"You're pretty well known around the Navy Yard, I...if you have a minute I was hoping you could settle an argument. I was going to check Google later, but seeing you, seems like too good an opportunity to miss. Everyone tells me you're the go-to guy when there's any question about movies."

Tony smiled. "Can't deny it; so what's your question?"

"There's a guy on the team, thinks he knows it all; he tried to tell us there's a movie based on an Ian Fleming book that's not a Bond movie. I mean, is he serious?"

Tony laughed and nodded his head. "Serious as a heart attack. 1968, Dick Van Dyke...ringing any bells?"

"Nothing. I can't believe he's right; man, we'll never hear the last of this." He started walking, taking it slow so that DiNozzo wouldn't even notice they were moving; he would get him away from the lively groups enjoying their drinks and snacks. From everything he'd learned about DiNozzo, now he had him talking about movies there'd be no stopping him; if things went to plan he'd have time to let DiNozzo know why he was about to die without drawing undue attention to their conversation.

NCIS NCIS

The visit to MTAC had been fruitless, Tim knew they'd get a lead eventually, he just wished it would happen soon. As he went downstairs back to the squad room he put a smile on his face so Tony wouldn't see his disappointment. He needn't have bothered, Tony wasn't there. "Hey Dorneget, where's Tony?"

"He...he said he wanted coffee, told me to wait here."

"You don't leave his side, which part of that order didn't you understand?" Tim was angry, and he was worried, the mood he was in who knew what Tony would do if he was unsupervised?

Dorneget took a step back; he'd never seen McGee so mad. "How much trouble could he get into between here and the break room?"

Tim didn't stop to answer, he hurried to the break room and wasn't surprised to see Tony wasn't there; Dorneget was at his heels red-faced and breathless. "Is he...?"

"No, I'm going outside, go find Gibbs, hurry!"

Tim raced for the stairs and hurried outside, trying to tell himself he was being over-anxious, so what if Tony had gone out for coffee, surely he'd stay close? Tim wasn't taking any chances, he would find Tony and he would get him back inside, kicking and screaming if need be.

Tim scanned the line at the coffee cart, the benches scattered around the grass, he wasn't here...wait, over by the river, and he wasn't alone...Tim sprinted across the grass, his hand going for his gun, damn! It was still in his drawer, probie move McGee, never leave the building without your gun. Take a breath; think...if the guy engrossed in conversation with Tony was a colleague Tim would look pretty stupid calling him out, didn't matter, he'd take the egg on his face just so long as Tony was safe. He was a few paces away when the two men looked up and in the face of the stranger was a look, for a fleeting moment a look he'd seen before, just before William Cahill was introduced to him he'd looked at Tim with that exact expression, a mixture of surprise and alarm, it was him, The Chameleon. As their eyes met, Jeremy knew McGee had recognised him, he reached for his knife, McGee first, then DiNozzo, he could do it, he was fast enough.

Tim threw himself at The Chameleon and called out. "It's him Tony, get away!" Tony acted instinctively, pulled the lid from his coffee cup and threw it at the man who was thrusting toward him 'Stirling' was momentarily blinded by the hot liquid and lashed out with the knife. Tim gasped as he felt the sharp blade, he took a breath, just a scratch, he was okay...he grappled with the bearded man, Tony reached for his gun. "Federal Agent, drop the weapon! You're done, put down the knife."

Jeremy tried to get a grip on McGee, if he could get a hold on him he could use him as leverage to get away from here, but he couldn't, he wasn't about to give up, he had to get to DiNozzo, his life's work couldn't end with failure. McGee lashed out with his foot, kicking Jeremy's leg from under him, he sprawled on the ground, and as he felt the cuffs biting into his wrists he saw two guns pointing at his head...so, this was the famous Agent Gibbs.

"You heard the man, you're done. Get him up McGee; I want to look this piece of scum in the eye."

Tim got to his feet, grabbed the man's arm and pulled him up to face his boss. Jeremy gave up the struggle, it was time, after so many successful kills, he'd failed...and he knew the price of failure. Throughout their existence Assassins had retained their secrets by one simple tenet, never be taken prisoner; he bit down hard on the denture in his mouth.

Gibbs was the first to realise what was happening, as The Chameleon dropped to the ground, droplets of saliva staining his beard he knelt beside him, trying to get his fingers inside his mouth, to stop him ingesting the full dose of poison; he wanted him to face a court for his crimes, if he was going to die it shouldn't be under his own terms. It was too late, as the paroxysm continued the man's breathing faltered then stopped, a few moments later he was still, Gibbs felt for a pulse knowing he wasn't going to find one. "He's gone..."

Tony was shaking and shaken, he'd been so close; if Tim hadn't...he looked at his partner for the first time and gasped. "Tim, you're hurt!"

"It's a scratch Tony, see; barely broke the surface."

Gibbs took out his phone and selected a number from his contacts list. "Duck, I'm out near the _Barry_, got a body for you...yeah, within walking distance; get Jimmy, bring a gurney and Duck, bring your medical bag too, I've got a live one for you to look at."

"Boss, I'm..."

"Going to have Ducky look you over, sit McGee. Tony, how are you doing?"

He was staring down at the contorted body of the man who'd been willing to kill him purely for financial gain. "He had me Boss, I never thought...went along with him like a lamb to the slaughter."

"He was clever Tony, only this time, not clever enough."

"Thanks to Tim; how did you know?"

Tim shrugged. "All I wanted at first was to get you back inside and knock some sense into you. When I saw you with him I felt...scared I guess, it felt wrong. Then I saw his eyes and I knew I'd seen him before." A wave of nausea washed over him, they'd come so close to losing Tony.

"Steady McGee, breathe deep."

"I...I'm okay Boss, just hit me, if I hadn't met Cahill that day..."

"Lucky for Tony you did. Maybe Ducky's autopsy will tell us who this guy really is; Dorneget, get Tony back inside, just because one killer is gone doesn't mean the threat's over."

**EPILOGUE**

Her husband had been spending many hours in his study, and usually she respected his desire for privacy, but this news couldn't wait. Suheera opened the door quietly, Mohammed was on the phone, she would wait.

"It is taking so long...yes, I am aware I told you time was not an issue, but I find each day that passes without news of his death is a day too long." He became aware of another presence in the room and turned to see his wife standing in the doorway, a shocked expression on her face, he slammed down the phone. "What are you doing here? I was conducting a private conversation."

"A death, why do you talk of a death, what have you done my husband?"

"You question me?"

"I do, you have been so distant since...since dear Faisal was taken from us, you sit in here hour after hour, is this what you have been doing, planning a death? Who is to die Mohammed, please tell me?"

"He must pay Suheera, you must see, DiNozzo, he killed our son."

She hurried to her husband's side. "No! Oh my very dear man, he did not kill Faisal, an accident, his death was an accident."

"But DiNozzo took him away, he took my son as I will take his."

She felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach, she couldn't breathe. "His son...you plan to kill his son?"

"There must be balance my love, a life for a life, it has always been this way."

"Then it must stop!" Her shock was turning to anger. "How many lives have been lost to the futility of revenge? Stop it now!"

It was Mohammed's turn to be shocked, his wife had never spoken to him this way. "I do not know if I can, or even if it is right that I should cancel the contract."

"Contract! Is that what you call it to justify what you do! Mohammed, our son drove his car too fast, you know this. He had always done so, our desert roads are more forgiving, in Monaco...perhaps it was his time, Allah knows, we do not. Stop this now, before your grandchild is born, do not let the child's life be stained by your sin."

This news was almost overwhelming. "A grandchild...Maisarah?"

"It is true, our dear daughter is to have a baby; a new life. You said it yourself, a life for a life; Maisarah's baby will never replace Faisal, but think my love, this baby is our blood. Do it Mohammed, end this futile revenge or I swear to you on Faisal's grave, I will send our daughter and her husband away, and you will never see you grandchild."

She swept from the room, her face set with fierce determination. Mohammed leaned on his desk, his heart was racing, his palms were damp, there was so much to absorb, not least the fact that his wife would make such a threat...no, he knew her better, it wasn't a threat, it was a promise. Since losing Faisal he had neglected her, neglected Maisarah too, and now such joyous news, a grandchild, perhaps a grandson to continue the family line...Suheera was right, he had to put a stop to the contract; he would not allow an innocent to die when his family was soon to welcome an innocent life of its own.

He picked up the phone and dialled the number that was now etched in his memory, he knew full well that the money he had already paid was gone; it didn't matter, mere money was a small price to pay if he could hold his grandchild in his arms and if he could show Suheera how much he loved her.

THE END of_ Chameleon_, Tony and Tim's alphabetical journey continues with_ Debt_, coming soon…


	9. Debt

8

**Debt**

Tony took out the key Tim had given him for use in emergencies. "You guys wait out here; if he's sleeping I don't want you waking him up."

Fletcher and Pendrel exchanged meaningful glances, being part of Tony DiNozzo's security detail was not dull that was for sure. They never knew where he was going next, or what he was going to do, but they were happy to wait outside Agent McGee's apartment, after all they knew Tony would be safe inside, the Director had posted a watch on McGee's apartment last night in case the man who'd halted an assassination became a target.

Taking care not to make a noise Tony put the groceries on the kitchen counter, slipped off his shoes and opened the bedroom door. Good, Tim was still sleeping; with luck Tony would have time to make him some breakfast. Tim's protestations that The Chameleon's blade had inflicted nothing more than a scratch had turned out to be something of an understatement.

By the time Ducky had arrived at the crime scene in the Navy Yard Tim was becoming aware of pain, and they could all see the widening stain on his shirt, he started to shiver.

"Oh oh, guess the adrenaline is wearing off..."

It hadn't taken Ducky long to make his assessment. "You need stitches young man, I'll put on a temporary dressing. Jimmy, would you deal with our latest guest? I will take Timothy to the hospital."

Tony had wanted to accompany his friend, but Gibbs was having none of it. "You get back inside Tony, and you stay there or so help me..."

He'd done as instructed, and his security detail had stuck to him like glue, they needn't have worried, he wasn't going anywhere until he got news on Tim. The attack had left Tony more shaken than he wanted to admit even to himself; not so much that he'd come close to death, wasn't the first time that had happened, but Tim...he could have died and all because Tony's didn't like staying inside and following orders.

The wait had seemed interminable, but was in fact just three hours; Ducky had called from the hospital. "Timothy was very lucky, a little more pressure on the blade and things could have turned out very differently. As it is he has eighteen stitches and once the local anaesthesia wears off he will be in a lot of pain. He'll be prescribed some pain medication and once we get away from here I'll take him home so he can sleep."

Ducky had ensured that Tim was as comfortable as possible before leaving him to get the rest his body required. He'd ordered everyone to stay away. "I know you all mean well, but he needs to rest and I think he can do that best if he is alone. I'll check on him first thing in the morning, until then I want you to leave him in peace."

It had taken all of Tony's willpower, and Gibbs' direct order to make him stay away; he'd done as Ducky asked, but he had slept fitfully, more than anything he wanted to speak to Tim, to thank him, over and over again. He'd been up at first light and had persuaded his security detail to let him call in at a grocery store before driving to Tim's apartment.

A fresh pot of coffee was ready, and as soon as Tim was up Tony would put the eggs in the pan. They were having them scrambled, there some things Tony wasn't prepared to do, even for a friend like Tim, and having half-cooked egg yolks staring up at him was one of them.

He heard the sound of running water from the bathroom, sounded like Tim was up and about. Tony resisted the temptation to check whether Tim needed any help and poured the beaten egg mixture into the pan, the eggs were just about ready when his friend walked slowly into the kitchen.

"Tony? What are you doing?"

"There was me thinking you were a trained investigator, I'm cooking eggs, see, breakfast will be served any minute, why don't you take a seat and I'll pour some coffee."

Tony was smiling, but Tim didn't return the smile, instead he went over to the counter and poured two cups of coffee. He handed one to Tony. "I know what you're doing Tony, this stops right here, right now."

"What?" Tony had no idea what Tim was talking about, he'd seen his friend wince as he picked up the coffee jug, so he put it down to the fact he was hurting.

Tim eased his frame onto a chair, the pain meds had worn off and he didn't want to take any more until Ducky looked him over, he knew he was being cranky and he knew Tony was only trying to help, but he had to put a stop to this. "I'm not having you acting like you have to pay me back for something, I did what I'm trained to do...what I'd do any minute of any day for my partner, what you'd do for me if the roles were reversed."

"These eggs are about done, you going to throw them at me, or sit quiet and eat them?" The distraction of getting Tim to eat something would give him some time to process what Tim was saying.

With a slightly sheepish smile Tim put down his cup. "Guess I am hungry, I'd like some eggs Tony, thanks."

"No problema." Tony divided the food and handed Tim a plate and fork, they ate in silence for a while. "Food okay?"

"Better than okay. Tony..."

"Finish your breakfast; I'm guessing you haven't eaten since yesterday morning...my fault..."

Tim shook his head slightly, but he didn't say anything, he really was hungry and these eggs were good. When he'd finished Tony took his plate before he had chance to get up and put it on the counter. "Tony...I...doing this, I do appreciate it, but I've been here remember? I've been the one waiting on someone hand and foot because I owed him..."

"Your life..."

"Sounds dramatic when you say it like that, but Gibbs did push me away from that car, I could have died, my own fault, I should have reacted faster."

"You reacted plenty fast enough yesterday. Without you I'd be lying on a slab in Autopsy."

Tim shook his head again. "No way to know that Tony, maybe you'd have seen the knife, stopped him before he...before he hurt you."

"Maybe...we'll never know because you got to him first. I was so stupid going out alone, but I couldn't stop myself, I felt like the walls were closing in on me. If I'd stopped to think you wouldn't be hurting right now."

"I'm okay Tony, a little sore I'll admit, but Ducky says I can go back to work tomorrow, not in the field, but I'm good to man a desk." Tim had to nip this in the bud; he knew how easy it was to be riddled with guilt when someone stepped into the firing line to save you. "I didn't do anything special; doubt if I even had time to think, I just acted on instinct, I'm glad I was there."

"You're glad? What about me Tim, what I owe you..."

"No! There's nothing owed, I had your back, next time you'll have mine; that's how it goes."

"Tim, please let me help, at least for today; you look like hell."

"Gee thanks!" Tony thought he'd gone too far, but Tim was smiling, "It's okay Tony, I got a look in the mirror; all I need is a day lounging around doing nothing and I'll be good as new."

"Is that right, you got super healing powers the rest of us don't know about?"

Tim couldn't help laughing, and proved he didn't have any super powers by wincing as he felt the pressure on his stitches. "Ow...remind me laughing isn't a good idea."

"See, you need me around to keep you in line."

"Won't Gibbs be expecting you?"

Tony put on his best hangdog expression. "You trying to say you want to get rid of me? A guy could take offence. Anyhow, Gibbs said I could take the day so long as I let my guard dogs do their job."

"Speaking of guard dogs, how's Dorny doing?"

"Gibbs wanted to send him down to the evidence lock-up to do inventory, but I managed to talk him out of it. I mean, the poor kid's in awe of me, when I told him to stay he wasn't about to argue. He's off security detail, but Gibbs is letting him work the case."

There was a knock on the door and Tony's hand went instinctively to his holster, he signalled Tim to stay where he was as he answered the door.

"Ah Anthony, would you be so kind as to tell Agent Fletcher that I am expected?"

"Ducky, come on in, Tim's in the kitchen. Fletch, what's your problem? You know Ducky, why didn't you let him in?"

Fletcher's jaw dropped open, "You serious? We saw Gibbs with Dorneget yesterday, not taking any chances."

"I hear that. Look, I'm staying with McGee today, when Ducky's finished checking him out, how about one of you watch me from inside the apartment and the other watch out here? If you do one hour shifts you get to have some time off your feet, sound good?"

"Sound great!"

Tony winked, went back inside and waited in the living room until Ducky came out of the kitchen. "How's he doing?"

"Very well, the wound is clean, no sign of infection; he's taking the latest dose of painkillers as we speak. If he follows doctor's orders and rests today there's no reason he can't return to work tomorrow."

"Oh, he'll rest, don't you worry."

"So I understand, Timothy tells me you've offered to stay with him today." Ducky smiled and patted Tony on the shoulder. "He's going to be perfectly fine Tony."

"No thanks to me."

"Don't take all the burden on your shoulders, The Chameleon is the one who bears the guilt. Speaking of which, I should be getting back to NCIS; Jimmy's preliminary findings have merely deepened the mystery surrounding our guest. No fingerprints, tinted contact lenses, false beard...this will be a very interesting autopsy."

"You'll call me if..."

"I get anything, of course; and Tony, please make sure Timothy takes his medication, he'll get better much faster if he's not in pain."

"Will do Doc, thanks for watching out for him, for all of us."

"You are most welcome, I should be going, no doubt Jethro is already breathing down Jimmy's neck."

Tony waved him on his way and went back to the kitchen; Tim was at the sink rinsing the breakfast plates.

"Hey, you're supposed to be taking it easy."

"Not exactly running a marathon Tony...look, about earlier, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, I do appreciate everything you're doing."

Tony picked up the empty cups and handed them to Tim. "It's nothing compared to what you did."

"Tony, enough please."

"No, it's not enough. You saved my life Tim, and not only that...you're my friend, what I'm doing, it's what a good friend would do."

Tim turned to Tony, searching his face and seeing the truth there. "So long as you're doing it for friendship's sake, not out of some misguided sense of obligation."

"But I do have an obligation Tim, to watch your back." Tony had to make his partner know what being a true partner meant. "You do know I'd take a bullet for you?"

Tim was momentarily taken aback, it was rare to see Tony so serious, maybe it was time to lighten the mood. "I'm the one on pain meds, thought it was me who'd be talking loopy."

"I mean every word."

"I know Tony, believe me I know. Come on partner, Ducky says I should rest, how about a movie?"

"Do you have anything that doesn't involve elves or wizards?"

Tim risked a quiet laugh. "Maybe; why don't you take a look and I'll get us some fresh coffee?"

"I can get coffee, you should sit." Tony was already moving toward the kitchen but Tim pointed to the TV.

"Tony, movie; now!"

"On it!"

THE END: The guys will be back for a quick drabble in _Early_.


	10. Early

**Early**

Tim stepped out of the elevator, a contented smile on his face; desk duty was finally over.

He walked to his desk; the smile broadened, sitting beside his keyboard was a cup of coffee and a doughnut overflowing with sprinkles. Gibbs would never buy a sprinkle doughnut, so who...? Couldn't be Tony, not this early; maybe Abby, no not without balloons and banners.

"Looking good there McSaviour, welcome back to field duty"

"Tony! You did this?"

"Yep, told you I'd beat you here one day."

"So you did, thanks partner...for everything."

Tony grinned; this looked like being a good day.

THE END

Next story will be _Fever,_ when Tony won't be having such a good day...


End file.
